The Price of Loyalty
by hiccups-and-sighs
Summary: After convincing her mum that she's ready for a new school, Sally-Anne Perks discovers that life at Hogwarts is not all it's cracked up to be. With her new friends, Sally-Anne discovers the secrets of the castle along with what exactly it means to be a Muggle-born in a turbulent era. What is the price of loyalty? She will soon find out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To say that this story is my baby would be an understatement. The characters and story lines have been floating around my head since 2007, and it has taken me the better part of four years to finally create a version I'm satisfied with. Year one has been completed on my end, and I will use this preemptive publication to gauge whether people are interested in the story. Comments and suggestions are very much appreciated!  
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 _The Price of Loyalty  
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by hiccups_and_sighs

Chapter 1

If one thing could be said about my mother, it was this: she _hates_ birds. Whether it's a robin or an eagle, she's completely terrified of them. So it was quite an unwanted surprise when we found one outside the kitchen window during dinner one summer.

"Sally-Anne!" my mother screamed in fright. "Get a broom and make it go away!" She ran from the kitchen to the living room on the other side of our house, and I was left to shoo the bird away.

It turned out to be an owl. A brown one, actually, with yellow eyes and a sharp looking beak. I opened the window, and was preparing to stick a broom handle out of it, when I noticed that the owl was holding out its leg. There was an envelope attached to it with heavy twine. I hesitated a moment before pulling the letter from the bird.

"Is it gone yet?" Mum called fearfully from the other room.

"Not yet," I answered back. "It has a letter for me!" I could hear her groan as I said this.

"If people resort to carrier pigeons to carry their post these days, I swear we're moving farther than Sussex!"

I smiled slightly at her empty threats and stopped myself from pointing out that carrier pigeons were extinct. I glanced back up at the owl outside the window. It stared back at me and ruffled its feathers before flying back into the night sky. Though stunned, I turned my attention back to the letter in front of me. My name and address were written in emerald cursive on the front:

 _Miss Sally-Anne Perks_

 _504 Whetherby Rd 3._

 _The kitchen_

Knowing my friends, it was bound to be a joke. A card sent via owl-that seemed the type of thing they would attempt. But even so, the envelope was of heavy parchment and it had a wax seal on the back with an interesting coat of arms pressed into it. While it seemed like a joke, I knew my friends wouldn't put _that_ much effort into it.

I picked the seal with my fingernail, and called back to my mum. "It's gone," I told her and I heard her make her way back to the kitchen.

"What does it say?" she asked as she entered the kitchen to find me still struggling with the seal.

"Dunno yet," I replied through gritted teeth, tugging at the seal and trying very hard not to rip the envelope. Finally, it gave, and the letter slipped out into my hand.

"' _Dear Miss Perks_ ,'" I read aloud, "' _I am pleased to inform you that you have a place at..._ '" I paused and looked up at my mother, wide-eyed, "' _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ '" I looked up again to find Mum staring at the letter with the same expression of confusion and awe.

" _'Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment_ ,'" I continued. " _'Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall._ '"

I finished reading and looked up at my mum. A shocked silence had fallen over the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"No," Mum said suddenly. "I - no. Absolutely not."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I can't have you going to that school," she continued, sounding a little bit disappointed. I didn't know what to think. I didn't even know if a place like "Hogwarts" existed.

"You mean the school is real?" I asked eagerly. Mum shrugged rather elaborately and busied herself with clearing the table.

"I don't know, Sally-Anne," she admitted, "but I don't like the sound of it. No, not one bit. Sounds rather like a joke, wouldn't you think?"

"But what if it isn't?" I persisted, grabbing a plate and bringing it to the sink where she had started washing up. "I could write them!" I exclaimed with a stroke of genius. "I could write them and ask if it's real! Then would you let me go?"

Mum chuckled a little bit. "You're awfully interested, aren't you, Anne?" she said with a warm smile. I shrugged.

"Well, I dunno," I said, "but 'Witchcraft and Wizardry' sound pretty interesting to me."

"Yes! Who could come up with a thing like that?" Mum laughed again and handed me a set of dishes to dry. "No," she continued, "unless I get more information about this 'Hogwarts,' you're not going. You'll go to a nice school in Guildford, once we move. One that'll help you with your...challenges."

 _Schools, probably_ , I corrected her mentally. I never lasted very long at one as it was. It used to be my ADD-in fact, it was still probably part of it to be honest. Sometimes Mum didn't like the instruction I was getting, or other times, it was because I nearly flunked out.

However, the last two times I had been forced to change schools was on a more mysterious ground. Sometimes, accidents occurred to me. For example, at my last school, I had accidentally fallen asleep during my maths class, and woke up hovering in my desk a few feet off the ground. The headmaster had accused me of being part of a conspiracy to get the dusty old maths teacher to quit - which he did - and expelled me when I told them honestly that I could not tell them the names of others involved, as there were none.

But odd things didn't happen just at school. Quite often, strange things occurred outside of school, most of which involved bananas (and I'd rather not go into), and always ended with my mother apologizing profusely for me, promising that it would never happen again, and me getting banned from the shops.

Yes, I was completely prepared to switch schools quite a lot when we moved. Whether or not my mother acknowledged that fact was up to her.

"I'll tell you what, Sally-Anne," Mum said suddenly, breaking me from my thoughts. "Why don't you write Minerva McConner or whatever her name was, and ask for more information? Then maybe her and I could have a nice chat about it all and we'll see." I nodded numbly and returned to the envelope lying on the table.

"There's no return address," I said, flipping the envelope around in my hands.

"None?" Mum asked, surprised.

"Nothing," I concluded and flopped it back on the table.

"Check the letter again, Anne; it might be on the letter head or something," Mum called from the sink.

"It said 'we await your owl,'" I said, remembering the letter and looking up at her. "How do I reply by owl?" She pursed her lips and said nothing.

I opened the envelope again and pulled out the parchment letter. There was no letter head. I flipped it over on the off chance that someone had stuck a return label on the back and found nothing. Nothing, that is, except another piece of parchment.

"I...I think this is totally serious," I told Mum gravely once I had finished reading through the paper.

"What?" she asked. "What did you find?"

"A supply list," I said, "of the strangest things." Mum walked over and took the list from my hand and read through it, too.

"Well that just proves it," she concluded, handing the list back to me and heading back towards the sink. "Whoever made this up has _way_ too much time on their hands."

"It calls for a pewter cauldron!" I read in amazement. " _Pewter_! And who could think up all those book titles, hmn?"

"Well, toss it in the bin once you're done with it, Sally-Anne," Mum told me. "It won't do anyone any good dreaming about schools that don't exist."

It was just us, Mum and me. I had a dad once, and he'd been a good one, as far as I can remember. He was a Lutheran pastor for a congregation up in Ireland, and Mum and I had been good faithful Christians up until he died in a car crash when I was seven. After that, we could never get back into religion as well as we liked.

So Mum and I started off on a journey of our own. Mum was an orthodontic nurse, which I thought to be a rather dull profession, but she always claimed that it was the least stressful. We moved around a bit, but nothing too major except our move to Wales right after Dad died. That was a bit difficult.

In four weeks' time, we would be moving from our semi-detached outside Cardiff to a new one in Sussex, where Mum had found a better paying orthodontic nurse position. She also said it would be better for me, since I had gone through about every school in the county.

The few weeks following the incident with the letter proved to be rather strange. Mum and I both kept packing for our imminent move, and, as it _was_ the summer hols, I spent as much time as possible with the few friends I had. And the letters from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry kept pouring in.

"I don't understand!" Mum cried, exasperated at the total of twenty letters that sat on the kitchen table. They had all arrived that day. "I don't know how we're supposed to respond to them!" she continued. "I mean, there _is_ no way to respond - there's no return address."

"We could ask the post man," I offered helpfully.

"Oh, he won't know who sent it," Mum grumbled.

"We're going to have to do _something_ ," I reminded her.

"Oh no, we're not," she said. "If _they_ make it impossible to contact them, _they'll_ have to take the first steps to contact _us_. They know our address."

I didn't like her logic, but agreed with her anyway. To me, it seemed as if we _had_ been contacted first, but were just missing a crucial part of how to respond.

The next day, when the post arrived, there were no letters of heavy parchment with green writing. Mum seemed satisfied that our point had been taken, and I was resolved to lie on the sofa most of the day and wait for my friends to phone.

About half-two, however, there came a rap of knuckles on the front door.

"Sally-Anne, can you get it?" Mum called from what sounded like the attic. "My hands are a bit full right now."

I didn't answer her, but unlocked the door and opened it to find a tall, severe looking woman in a simple black dress.

"Sally-Anne Perks, I presume?" she said quickly. I nodded. "I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... May I please speak to your parents?"

"...well yes, I'm sure, Professor, but I'm not quite certain that it would be the best thing for Sally-Anne to go so far away for school." Mum, Professor McGonagall, and I sat around our small kitchen table drinking tea and discussing the school, which-I found out-really did exist. I wasn't doing much of the talking. In fact, I had barely spoken since the professor had walked in. Instead, she and Mum preferred to talk about me as if I weren't there, which infuriated me.

"Mrs. Perks, you must understand that these occurrences you speak of won't just go away!" Professor McGonagall persisted. "In other circumstances, I would allow the parents to teach the child at home. But seeing as neither you nor anyone in your family is of a magical background, Sally-Anne would not be able to learn proper control of her abilities." I ground my teeth together. I was sitting right there, why couldn't they talk _to_ me instead of _about_ me?

Mum sipped at her tea suspiciously. "She has… _accidents_ …sometimes," she said flatly, making me glare into my tea. I was right there... "What could you do about that?"

"Mum…" I groaned. She made it sound like I wet myself on a regular basis.

"Magical accidents?" the professor asked. Mum nodded. "These won't simply go away on their own. At Hogwarts, we teach students how to hone their abilities so these 'accidents' don't happen. And, if all-else fails, special arrangements could be made."

I wanted someone to look at me - to notice _I was sitting right there_. I could feel my heart beat raise and I fought to calm myself down. _Bad_ things happened when I was mad. I took a few deep breaths through my nose.

"She's always had a rough time with special arrangements."

My hands shook slightly and I stared fixedly at the table. I could feel a sort of power course through my veins and I needed to control it. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's tea cup shattered in her hand, spilling tea all over her. I blinked in surprise and realized with a sinking feeling that I had not been able to control it well enough. I had caused it.

Mum had realized it, too, because she gave me a withering look and started apologizing profusely, as she always did.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Professor!" she cried, helping to mop up the tea on the table. "That's what I mean by accidents! I'm so sorry; it won't happen again, right Sally-Anne?" She always talked quickly when apologizing for me.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Professor McGonagall assured her, pulling out a long, thin piece of wood and waving it at her clothes and the table. Suddenly they were all dry. She pointed it at the broken tea cup, and then it was flawlessly repaired, which was good, since it was Mum's best china.

I stared at the professor as she stuck the wand back into her pocket and turned to me.

"You have quite a bit of strong magic in you, Miss Perks," she said with a faint smile. "You would do very well at Hogwarts. Very well indeed, I should think."

Mum was also staring at her. "I..." she started carefully. Then she gave a sort of relieved laugh. "Everyone before's been so mad when that happens," she explained. "It's just nice to see she's not treated like...well, like a freak."

"Of course not! No use crying over spilled tea, in this case. It's only to be expected of a young witch or wizard." Professor McGonagall gave me a genuine smile, which made all the anger inside of me melt away. I felt something for the first time: acceptance.

"I...well..." Mum frowned and looked like she was thinking very hard about something. "Okay," she said at last. "Sally-Anne can go to Hogwarts." I beamed at her. "But she'll have to come home every month or so," she added quickly, "she has braces, you see-Sally-Anne, show her your braces, that's a good girl-and I want to know _everything_ that happens," she said, looking at me sternly.

I didn't even care what she made me do. I was going to Hogwarts.

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 **A/N: Please leave me a review if you can! I am currently looking for a beta reader to help with Britspeak and canon edits, so if you're interested, send me a message!**

 **X**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, Mum and I went up to London to shop for school supplies, as I'd be headed off for school very soon. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall had given us an address of where to find all the supplies I'd need, otherwise Mum and I would both go mad trying to find everything. Just where we would find dragon hide gloves was beyond me.

"They could make it a bit closer," Mum complained as we walked quickly down the London streets. "It's such a pain going all the way to London." I followed her closely as she paced the pavement, only barely listening as she muttered to herself. I had never been to London before, and I was keen on taking in as much as I possibly could.

The large buildings, the busy roadways, and the colorful people kept distracting me from paying full attention to my mother. I stared as a man with vivid red dreadlocks and multiple piercings walked by us.

"...She said it would be on this block..." Mum muttered as we turned a corner. "We're looking for The Leaky Cauldron, Anne. See if you can spot it before me."

I craned my neck to look at all the signs of the buildings as we walked. We were almost to the end of the block when I spotted it.

"There it is!" I said excitedly, pointing at a dingy looking pub between a book store and record shop.

"What? Where?" Mum asked, bewildered, and followed my finger.

"Between the record shop and book store," I told her. She shook her head.

"No, Sally-Anne, I don't see anything." She blinked heavily a few times and frowned deeply. "Are you sure it's there?"

I nodded vehemently. It was right there, clear as day.

"I don't see it," Mum maintained. "Maybe I can't see it because I'm not like you," she sighed.

I looked up at her, wondering what to do. I couldn't just leave her waiting for me outside, but at the same time, I needed school supplies.

"I'll tell you what, Sally-Anne," Mum said, digging in her purse for something. " _You_ go ahead and get your supplies without me-think you can do that?" She handed me some notes which I put in my pocket. " _I'll_ go and check up on Emo; your aunt's been asking me to do that for a while now. Remember Emo, Sally-Anne? He's living in London now; maybe you could visit him with me sometime."

Emo was my cousin. I hadn't seen him for a few years, and my memory of him was a bit foggy, but I seemed to recall that he was a musician. And that he had moved to London-rather stupidly-at the age of seventeen.

"Yeah," I agreed, dumbstruck. "Yeah, okay. I'll do the shopping, I guess." In reality, I was very nervous. Mum had never let me go shopping on my own, much less in a city, much less in London! I almost couldn't believe she was letting me wander round alone. I looked down at my list of school supplies. Would I really be able to manage to get everything without Mum?

"Right, now we'll meet back here at _exactly_ five o'clock, is that clear, Sally-Anne? _Five o'clock_." Mum said this all very forcefully, as I had the unfortunate habit of losing track of time. I nodded and she smiled a bit wearily at me. "I'll see you in a little bit, then," she said and I walked across the pavement and into the dusty pub.

It was about as dingy on the inside as it was on the outside. I stood in the doorway for a moment, just taking everything in. There were a few witches and wizards sitting in the pub, talking excitedly about something I must've missed. Unlike Professor McGonagall, they were all dressed in long robes, the like of which I had never seen before.

I wandered in, wondering where to find my wand or robes in this pub. The bartender must have noticed I looked lost, because he called me over to him.

"Can I help you, m'dear?" he asked, giving me a toothless smile. He had to lean over the bar to see me properly.

"Uh, I'm looking for where I can find my school things." I held up my list. He had a somewhat frightening appearance, with a misshapen head and a hunch-back, but he very kindly took my list and examined it

"First year at Hogwarts, eh, Miss?" he asked, handing me back my list. He wiped his gnarled, old hands on a hanging dish towel and walked out from behind the bar.

"Yes, sir," I answered. I followed him and a few gabbing witches through the bar and into a courtyard full of weeds and a trash bin. The bartender was telling me something, but I was distracted by what the witches were doing. One raised her wand (I was able to recognize one, now) and tapped the brick wall in front of her three times. Immediately, the wall began to form a small hole in the center that widened until it formed an archway leading into a bustling, colorful marketplace. I gaped as the witches, who were now walking through the archway and down the cobblestone street.

"You'll need a wand to get into Diagon Alley, Miss," he told me. I jumped when he spoke again. I had forgotten he was there. "But you can buy one after you get your wizard money."

"Wizard money?" I asked, astonished. "You don't use pounds?" I instinctively touched my pocket to make sure the notes Mum had given me were still there and at the same time, started to panic, wondering how I would buy my things if I didn't have any wizard money.

The bartender laughed a genial, toothless laugh. "Don't worry, Miss. You can trade in your Muggle money for Galleons and Sickles at Gringott's Bank-the large building straight ahead, you see?" He pointed at a white marble fortress down the road. "Your school list doesn't include everything you _should_ have, either. You'll be needing some parchment and quills for writing and such. Flourish and Blott's will sell 'em, sure enough," he said, gesturing at another shop.

I looked up at him. "Thank you," I said very sincerely and smiled. In a fit of gratitude, I extended my hand to him. "I'm Sally-Anne Perks."

He took my hand and with a little bow said, "And I'm Tom, the innkeep. If you'll be having any problems, Miss Perks, come and see me." With that he turned and walked back into the bar and I started down the crowded streets of Diagon Alley.

Gringott's Bank was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was greeted by two short... _creatures_ as I entered the bank and was surprised to find that every counter was manned by the same creatures-some counting money and other precious-looking materials, and others helping patrons. I walked up to the nearest free counter and took the money out of my pocket.

"Erm," I said to mark my presence. The creature stared down at me. Like the others, he had long, thin fingers, a domed head, and shrewd eyes. As it peered down at me, I got the feeling that no matter what they were, they were not to be messed with.

"Yes?" it prompted me impatiently, since all I could do up to that point was stare.

"I need to exchange money," I croaked out, reaching the notes up to him. I heard some shuffling on the counter as, presumably, my money was being counted and converted, and I took time to glance around the enormous hall. There were doors off to the side where the small creatures were showing people in and out, some looking slightly sick. I wondered what was past there, but was too afraid to ask. _Maybe that's where all the debtors go..._ I thought wildly.

With a thump, a small pouch of money was put on the edge of the counter for me to take. I stood on my tip-toes to get it and once I did, looked inside. There were several large gold coins, more silver coins, and even more little bronze coins. I cinched the bag closed, thanked the creature hurriedly, and sped out the door. The way the creature looked down its nose at me with its beady eyes made me uneasy, and I was eager to get away.

Once outside, I stuffed my new money into my pocket and took out my school list again. The first items on my list involved a school uniform, so I wandered down the path, looking for all the world a helpless tourist, my neck craning every which way, in search of where to find _plain black robes,_ a _pointed hat,_ and a _winter cloak._

But there was so much to see in Diagon Alley! I couldn't keep my eyes off the bins full of eel livers and beetle eyes outside a shop for potions, or the model of an actual racing broom in a "Quidditch" supply store. I didn't know what Quidditch was, and I had thought the note at the bottom of my supply list stating that first years weren't allowed broomsticks was a joke.

As I passed the supply store, I finally noticed a brightly painted sign quite literally reading "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" in a high and squeaky voice.

I stepped inside the shop, which appeared to be a whirl of fabric billowing every which way. Before I could get my bearings, a squat woman tottered over to me in a hurry, asked "First year, dear?" and dragged me off to a stool before I could answer.

I had only been fitted for clothes once, and it had been for my aunt's wedding, in which I was supposed to be the flower girl. Being fitted for robes was quite a different experience.

The woman I presumed to be Madam Malkin had me stand on a stool while she worked and advised me that it was "best not to look down during the process," though I could feel a magical needle rapidly sewing up the sides and bottom where she had pinned. I stood next to a young blonde boy about my age. I had only been standing there a minute when he started to talk to me.

"First year, too, are you?" he drawled. I blinked and stared at him before nodding once. "The boy before you was, too. Didn't quite catch his name, though. I'm Draco Malfoy. I'll be in Slytherin, of course."

"Oh," I said. I didn't know where Slytherin was. "I'm Sally-Anne Perks. I'm from Cardiff."

"Know what House you'll be in?" I noticed that he kept his head very high and looked down his nose at me. And what was this about a house? Could wizards read minds? Did he know I was moving?

"Another semi-detached, I expect. Mum hasn't exactly told me, even though we leave soon."

The boy gave me a blank look. Whatever he expected, apparently that wasn't it.

"Are you a Muggle-" he began to ask, but the woman who was sewing his robes told him he was finished and he jumped off his stool.

"Don't listen to him, dear," Madam Malkin told me through a mouthful of straight pins. "Some of the greatest witches and wizards were Muggle-born!"

"What's 'Muggle-born?'" I asked her.

"It's a witch or wizard who was born to non-magical parents, Muggles," she explained, giving me a sympathetic look as she stood and slipped my finished robes off. "That will be fifteen galleons for the lot, my dear."

I opened the pouch that now held my money. "Which ones are galleons?"

"The big gold ones. There are nine knuts - the bronze ones - to a sickle - the silver ones - and seventeen sickles to a galleon." She was being very patient with me as I counted out fifteen fat, golden galleons and handed them to her. She gave me two bags with my robes in them.

"Do you know where I can buy a wand?" I asked her as I left, looking down at my school list.

Oh, you'll want to buy yours at Ollivander's - he's the best! He's further down the road; take a right as you're leaving the shop." I thanked her and left, now juggling my bags of school clothes and money pouch.

I thought The Leaky Cauldron was dingy, but when I found Ollivander's shop, there was no comparison. The outside looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since 1307, as it said on the sign. The door knob was difficult to turn and I had to give the heavy door a good shove before it would open, but I managed to get inside and-

 _WHAP!_

Something very long and very hard collided with my forehead at an alarming speed. I stumbled backwards, clutching my forehead and seeing stars while the object fell to the floor where it continued to rattle and vibrate against the wood panels.

When I could once again see clearly, I looked to find that what had hit me was actually a wand, which was still restlessly shuddering against the floor. Rubbing my still stinging forehead, I bent down to pick it up.

As soon as it met my fingertips, however, silver and gold sparks shot from the tip like fireworks on Boxing Day. I gasped and dropped the wand immediately, but it floated a few feet off the floor.

As I stared at the wand suspended in midair I became aware of another person staring with me. Standing at the main counter was an ancient man wearing a small shrewd smile. I gaped at him, my eyes wide as dinner plates and my jaw slack.

"Only once," he said suddenly in what I thought to be a wise, sage voice, "has that occurred in my store before."

"What?" I asked stupidly. He walked out from behind the counter, picked up the floating wand, and examined it closely before handing it to me.

"On very rare occasions a wand crafted from vine will emit magical effects upon the mere entrance of a potential owner. It seems," he looked down at me with large glassy eyes, "that it has chosen you."

"Chosen me?" I repeated. "But aren't _I_ supposed to choose _it_?"

The man chuckled and walked slowly back to the counter. "The wand chooses the wizard. Or-in this case—witch." He opened a very large leather-bound book on the counter and with one bony finger beckoned me towards him. As I approached I realized the book was a registry of what must have been every name and type of wand sold in the store.

"Name, my dear?" he asked in his old voice.

"Um. Sally-Anne Perks."

He glanced up at me. "Muggle-born, I presume." I nodded hastily. "Peculiar," he said and wrote my name down in his book. "Most vine wands I have sold to older, more experienced wizards and witches with more years under their belt, you could say. Although, it hasn't been the first time I've sold to a student, either..."

I watched him finish documenting my purchase in silence. _Vine. Twelve and a half inches. Dragon heart-string core. Very flexible; good for charms._

I didn't understand what everything meant. 'Charms?' 'Dragon heart-string?' There couldn't be real dragons, could there? Surely not. Only in stories.

"Are there really dragons?" I found myself blurting out before I could stop.

The man looked up at me again. "Don't be foolish, child, of course there are. How else would I make your wand?"

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 **A/n: Thanks for reading! I would appreciate a review, as well. Again, I'm looking for a beta reader who can help with canon and Brit-speak! x**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"This is _bizarre_." Mum leafed through my _Standard Book of Spells: Level One_ as I stuck my nose in _A History of Magic_. We sat at a fold-out card table in our mostly boxed up kitchen (we would be moving the next week) and all of my new school things were on display from my shopping that day.

"I can't believe you found all of this in London," she continued, moving on to examine my new pair of dragon hide gloves.

"I got my own wand and everything, Mum," I added, glancing up from my book and eventually replacing it on the table with the rest of my items.

"I only wish it was easier to get to," she sighed, "and that I could go along with you. I'm not sure it's safe for you to be walking around London by yourself."

"It's not like the rest of London, I told you!" I said excitedly. "It looks a lot older — like something right out of King Arthur!"

Mum yawned in response, and that was the cue for bed. I packed my supplies in the trunk I had bought and hauled it up to my room, which now only held a mattress and a variety of cardboard boxes.

"Anne, make sure you take time to say goodbye to your friends before you leave; I'm not sure when you'll see them again, now that you're going away to school," Mum called up the stars after me. My heart sunk a little in my chest.

I had a very few close friends I would be leaving behind in Cardiff, and the fact that I wouldn't just be moving, but also going to a boarding school hadn't quite crossed my mind. But as I said my goodbyes that week, and answered their questions as vaguely as I could get away with, I began to realize not only how far away I'd be going, but that I didn't actually know where I was going.

I could not, for instance, respond convincingly when asked where, exactly, my new school was; I told my friends it was the school in Limerick where my father went. I didn't know what my address would be for them to write, and I wasn't even sure how I would receive their mail, even if they did. And probably the most important question of all: do wizards use telephones?

But the weeks passed, and Mum and I moved to a town home in Guildford. We settled in well, and the days until I would leave for school dawdled by until, at last, it was September first.

"Sally-Anne, get down here _now_! Your train leaves soon!" I heard mum call as I was in my room, frantically searching for my ticket.

"In a minute!" I yelled back distractedly while looking under my bed. My Hogwarts trunk sat by my open door, fully packed and ready for the year ahead.

Giving up on the ticket, I heaved myself off the floor, grabbed my trunk, and sped downstairs, my mother yelling at me for letting the trunk hit each step as I went down.

"Have you seen my ticket?" I asked her, disregarding her complaints. "I can't find it anywhere."

"Oh, Anne, it's on the table where you left it. Honestly, how will you manage at school? You'd lose your head if it weren't attached."

I ignored her chastising and grabbed my ticket before running out the door behind her. We squeezed my trunk in the boot of our car and Mum drove (at twice the legal limit, I'm convinced) me to the station. As we hurried to the platform Mum rattled off important information:

"Don't forget to let me know if you need anything. You'll be coming home every few weeks for your appointments, remember we settled that with Professor McGonnagon? You'll be meeting Emo in London and he'll take you over to King's Cross from Waterloo. Do you remember what he looks like? I think he knows what you do so I'm sure he'll find you, just _don't be late_!"

Her warnings, paired with the surplus of busy people, began to stress me out. Suddenly, I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing. Did I really want to go away to school?

But before I could change my mind, my mother hugged me quickly, gave me a swift kiss on the forehead, and pushed me towards the train. I had no choice but to go.

The train ride did nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, it only made them worse. The book I had brought to entertain myself sat unopened beside me as the train rocked and my mind spun. Suddenly, all my insecurities were brought forward in my mind.

I had never been able to make friends easily — partly due to my introverted nature, partly to me constantly changing schools — and I was struck again with the thought of having to make friends at a new school. Really, in an entirely different world. I thought back to the blonde boy I had met in Diagon Alley. He had known so much about the wizarding world. And here I was, completely clueless.

My thoughts took me all the way to Waterloo, where I got off the busy train in a nervous haze, my trunk trailing behind me.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to find a vaguely familiar face staring back at me.

"Sally-Anne, right?" the man asked. I nodded numbly. "Emo. You probably don't remember me; it's been so long." He gave me a nervous smile that I attempted to mirror, but probably ended up looking like a fool instead.

"So I'm to take you to King's Cross," he continued after an awkward pause and we started to walk to a different part of the station. "Long trip?" he asked.

"Kind of," I muttered. It had certainly felt long.

We transferred to a different train on the underground and Emo kept close to me as we were bustled down a corridor.

"We probably should have taken a cab," he said once we were on the train, "but in this traffic, the tube is faster."

He was taller than I remembered. But he certainly did look like a musician. Very tall and stick-thin, he had perfectly quaffed red hair, like me and my mum, and he wore a leather jacket over black jeans and a faded band t-shirt.

He asked me questions along the way — simple things, really. How was school, what I wanted to do when I was older, what my hobbies were, etc. I responded freely. It was nice to get away from my destructive thoughts, if only for a minute. But before I knew it, we were at Kings Cross.

"Well your mum told me to take you this far," Emo said as we approached the ticket barrier. "Do you need me to take you to your platform?"

"No," I replied hesitantly, "I think I'll be fine." I had about Platform 9 3/4 in _A History of Magic_ and I knew that it was enchanted. Not only was I unsure if Emo would be able to enter the platform, I wasn't sure if I should reveal the magic world to a _Muggle_.

"Okay, well, be safe," he said. He gave me an awkward hug, and I dragged my trunk off the tube and into King's Cross.

When I found out I would be making the trip to London alone, I had tried to memorize the part in _A History of Magic_ about Platform 9 ¾. I knew I had to walk through the wall between platforms 9 and 10, but as I made my way past the other platforms I started to worry.

What if it didn't work? What if I tried to get on the platform and I just bounced off the barrier instead? Everyone would laugh at me and I would be stuck in London alone. _What if all of this was just an elaborate prank?_

I arrived at platform 9 with these thoughts whirling around my head. I gazed at the barrier between the two platforms: it seemed perfectly normal to me. I stood less than a foot in front of the barrier, staring at it, debating whether or not I should try to walk through it.

"See something interesting?" a train conductor walking by asked. I jumped and quickly shook my head.

"Which platform do you need to go to?" he asked me.

"Uh, it's okay, I know where I'm going," I said so quietly that he had to bend down closer to me to hear.

"Are you sure? Let me see your ticket. I can help you out," he insisted.

"No, it's fine, I know where to go," I said, more panicked now.

"Where are your parents?" he demanded.

"Oh _dear!_ That's where you are! I'm so glad I found you! You had me worried sick!" a woman cried from right behind me. I whirled around to find an older woman with a boy my age at her side. She seemed to be talking to me.

She stepped closer to me and put her hand on my shoulder. I was frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. The boy next to her seemed to be as stunned as I was, but I noticed that he, too, was dragging a trunk behind him. And with relief, I saw that it was the same Hogwarts trunk.

"You mustn't run off like that, dear," the older woman gently admonished me. Then she turned to the conductor. "Thank you so much for finding my granddaughter," she told him, "I'll take it from here. Come along, love."

I followed my new "grandmother" to platform 10 before she stopped and turned around to face me.

"Hogwarts?" she asked me gently. I nodded quickly. "It's my grandson's first year, too. Go on, introduce yourself, Neville," she said firmly to the boy who was following her.

"I'm Neville. Nice to meet you," he mumbled.

"I'm Sally-Anne," I replied and gave him a small smile. He seemed to appreciate that and gave me a tentative smile in return.

"I hope what I did was okay," Neville's grandmum continued. "I could see you were having some difficulty. Now, the best way to get onto Platform 9 ¾ is to just lean into the wall. Just lean in. Come on, we'll all to it together."

She lined herself, Neville, and me up against the barrier between 9 and 10.

"Now on the count of three, we'll just slip into the wall, okay? One, two, three…"

Against my better judgment and all reasonable thought in my head, I closed my eyes and did as she said.

It felt like nothing had happened. With my eyes screwed shut, I took two steps to the left and didn't meet a barrier at all. At first, I thought nothing had happened, but then…

"You can open your eyes, now, dear."

I did, and was immediately met with a bewildering sight. People crowded the platform. There were students, my age and older, dragging trunks and holding cages with cats and owls, parents in long colorful robes, looking like they were straight out of a storybook, and, perhaps most amazing of all, an enormous crimson steam engine with the words HOGWARTS EXPRESS painted in gold on the side.

"Wow," I said, at a complete loss for words.

"Come along, we'll get you two settled into a carriage," Neville's grandmum said, and I followed her and Neville along the platform and towards a carriage. She took out a long, thin piece of wood that I now recognized as a wand, pointed it at my trunk and it floated up into the carriage.

"You can do magic?" I asked excitedly before I could stop myself. The entire experience was still so new to me.

She smiled down at me. "Soon you'll be able to as well." She did the same thing to Neville's trunk and we climbed into the carriage after our belongings.

"Now, Neville, write me when you've been sorted," his grandmother told him. "And be good. I'll see you for the Christmas holiday. _And don't lose Trevor._ "

Neville said something inaudible to her.

"Don't be nervous, boy! There's nothing to be nervous about! Now you go and make your parents proud." She hugged him tightly and he followed after me.

"It was nice to meet you, Sally-Anne," she called after me. "I hope to see you again, soon!"

Neville and I walked through the carriage until we came upon an empty compartment.

"Your grandmum seems nice," I told him as we hoisted our trunks above our seats.

"Yeah," he muttered and sat down. He looked out the window gloomily.

We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Students were still boarding the train and I watched new faces pass by our compartment. Some of them stopped to smirk at us, others didn't give us another look. A girl with bushy brown hair passed our compartment, but immediately turned around and opened the door.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked abruptly. I glanced at Neville, who had jumped and looked away from the window in surprise.

"Sure," I answered. The girl dragged her trunk inside and I helped her put it up above her seat.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said once she sat down. "Who're you?"

"I'm Sally-Anne," I said. "Perks," I added.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville answered.

"And you're first years as well?" she asked. We both nodded.

"My parents aren't magical, so I've read all about Hogwarts, of course. Have you?" Neville and I looked at each other. She seemed a little bossy to me. And I was sure Neville was thinking the same thing.

"My parents went to Hogwarts, and so did my gran, so I know a lot about it," Neville said a little warily.

"I skimmed _A History of Magic_ ," I confessed. Hermione's eyes seemed to light up.

"Oh, I practically inhaled A History of Magic. It was so interesting. But you really must read _Hogwarts: A History_. That's what I read and it tells you anything you want to know about Hogwarts. For example, did you know that each house has at least one ghost?" She said this all very loud and very fast.

"Ghosts?" I asked. "Hogwarts has ghosts?"

"Loads of places have ghosts," Neville told me. I stared at the both of them, unbelieving.

Just then the train gave a lurch and started to pull away from the station.

"Hogwarts: A History says the train ride will be about two and a half hours long," Hermione told us. "No one really knows where Hogwarts is, since there are so many security enchantments around the castle, but wizards speculate that it's somewhere in Scotland."

I was getting the distinct impression that Hermione was a talking encyclopedia. But all of her knowledge was beginning to worry me. Would I be the only one at Hogwarts that didn't know all of these things? Would I be severely behind?

"I've tried out a few simple spells, you know," Hermione went on. "I completely read all of our textbooks for this year, but I do hope I'm prepared."

"You tried spells?" Neville gasped. "But you aren't allowed to do that!"

"Oh, just small ones!" she defended. "Like _R_ _epairo_ and _A_ _guamenti_."

"Were we supposed to read our textbooks beforehand?" I asked, beginning to panic a little. She seemed so prepared, and I was already leagues behind her.

"I didn't read them," Neville told me, also looking a bit worried.

"I figured since I don't know anything about magic it wouldn't hurt to start a bit early," Hermione said.

"I don't know anything about magic," I said hollowly. I felt a pit form in my stomach. What had I gotten myself into?

"You'll probably be a bit behind," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "What do your parents do?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I live with my gran," Neville said. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the question.

"My mum's an orthodontic nurse," I told Hermione.

"Both of my parents are dentists," she replied proudly. "They have their own practice and everything."

"Oh. That's very nice," I said, feeling put down. I wasn't sure if I liked Hermione very much.

"I should probably brush up on my knowledge before we get to Hogwarts," Hermione said, pulling a large textbook out of her bag. I recognized it as The Standard Book of Spells Year 1. "I'll let you borrow _Hogwarts: A History_ , if you like, Sally-Anne."

She handed me another book out of her bag and I opened it hungrily, ready to cram as much knowledge as I could into our short train ride for fear of being under-prepared.

* * *

 **A/n: Thank you for reading! I would appreciate a review as well, if you would be so kind! And if you're interesting in beta reading the rest of the story, send me a message. x**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Has anyone seen a toad?"

A compartment full of boys stared back at me.

"A toad?" one of them asked in disgust. He had pale blonde hair and looked a little familiar.

"Yes, my friend Neville lost his pet toad," I explained. Halfway through the train trip, Neville had suddenly stood up and proclaimed his pet toad Trevor to be lost.

"Gran's going to kill me," he moaned as he checked under our seats for his friend.

"Not if we find him!" Hermione said. "Sally-Anne and I can go ask around and see if anyone's found him!"

I didn't appreciate being volunteered for the task, but agreed to do it, and found myself standing in front of a compartment of boys, asking around for a toad.

"Wait a minute, haven't we met?" the blonde boy asked. Had we? "Yes, you're the girl I met while getting robes at Madame Malkin's!"

"Oh, right," I said, remembering. He had asked me about which house I would be in. He seemed…interesting.

"Sit with us," the boy demanded. "Crabbe, Goyle, move over." The two other boys in the compartment, huge, bulking boys, switched seats and made room for me to sit.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," the blonde boy said. He held out his hand and I took it.

"I'm Sally-Anne Perks," I replied.

"Will you be in Slytherin?" he asked me pointedly. I was glad I had just read the part about the houses in _Hogwarts: A History_ , so I knew what he was talking about.

"No one really knows, do they?" I asked.

"I know," he said quickly. With a smirk, he looked over at Crabbe and Goyle, who began to laugh stupidly. "Crabbe and Goyle will be, too. And you, too, if you knew what was good for you."

"I dunno, I thought Gryffindor sounded kind of nice…" I said. Draco made another disgusted face.

"Gryffindor?" he blanched. "I think I'd go home if I was sorted into Gryffindor. Though nothing's worse than _Hufflepuff_." Crabbe and Goyle laughed again.

"Is Hufflepuff bad?" I asked. He seemed to know so much more about Hogwarts than anyone else I had met.

"They're all idiots," he told me dismissively. "Only morons are sorted into Hufflepuff – those too soft to go anywhere else. No, Slytherin's the house you want to be in."

"Oh, okay," I agreed, mentally sorting Gryffindor and Hufflepuff into houses I didn't want to be in. He seemed to know so much about the wizarding world; who was I to argue with him?

"My entire family's been in Slytherin," Draco continued in a bragging sort of way. "Well, anyone worth mentioning, at least. What were your parents in?" he asked me.

"Oh, my parents didn't go to Hogwarts," I told him.

"Didn't go to Hogwarts?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Did they go another wizarding school?"

"My parents are Muggles," I said. Draco's face fell.

" _Muggles_?" He said the word with disgust. "You won't be in Slytherin, then."

"What? Why not?" I asked, crestfallen. I didn't understand why I couldn't be in the "best" House, just because Mum and Dad were Muggles.

"Slytherin only accepts _real_ wizards, not anyone with _dirty blood_ ," he said viciously, his lip curled in detest. Crabbe and Goyle began to growl menacingly beside me, like dogs.

"But I am real!" I said indignantly. I thought back to all of the times I had inadvertently used magic. If that wasn't real, what was? "That's not fair! I should be able to be in Slytherin if I want to be!"

"You'll never be real," Draco snapped. "And you'll never be in Slytherin. And I don't associate with anyone who's not in Slytherin."

"Fine," I huffed and stood up. "Have fun in Slytherin." I slammed the door of their compartment shut and walked back to my own, where Neville had his hands wrapped around a newly found Trevor.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked me.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said sourly.

"Well you better get changed into your uniform. We'll be arriving soon."

The rest of the train ride went smoothly, though I was in a particularly bad mood about my earlier encounter with Draco Malfoy. My mood wasn't helped by Hermione's incessant chatter, rattling off facts from the text books as if she was studying for a test.

When we arrived at the station, I followed Hermione off the train and onto the platform, where hundreds of students had flooded, all in the same uniform.

"Firs' years over here! Firs' years this way!" I heard a voice boom ahead of me. I craned my neck to see who was calling, and my eyes fell on an enormous man. He wasn't fat like Crabbe and Goyle—he was twice as tall as a normal man. My jaw dropped as I stared at him. He caught my stare and gave me a cheery little wave.

"Any more firs' years?" he asked and Hermione, Neville, and I reached the huddle of students our age surrounding him. Neville was gaping at the giant as well.

"Alrigh' follow me. Mind yer step, now," the giant said, and lead us down a dark and narrow path away from the platform.

Hermione and Neville got shuffled ahead of me in the crowd and I found myself walking next to a sandy-haired boy. "Were do you think he's taking us?" the boy asked me. He had a thick, Irish accent.

"I dunno," I confessed, and kept walking beside him into a clearing at the edge of a large lake. The Hogwarts castle sat atop a bluff on the other side.

There was a collective gasp as we all looked at our new school for the first time.

"Blimey," the sandy haired boy next to me whispered. "Now there's something you don't see every day." I had to completely agree with him.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant called back to us as we all clambered into small boats. I climbed in with the sandy haired boy and two other girls. Down to my right, I could see Hermione and Neville in a boat with two boys I hadn't met.

"Everyone in? Alright, then—FORWARD!"

The boat lurched forward and we began gliding towards the immense castle. No one talked much as we went. I found the nervous pit in my stomach growing bigger and bigger. I tried to tell myself that I was just hungry, but I could feel myself grow paler as we neared the school.

When we finally clambered out of the boats, we all walked up a flight of stone stairs to a door that opened when the giant man knocked three times. Inside the door stood Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said and opened the door fully into an entrance hall. I shuffled in behind the sandy haired boy and stared at the inside of the castle. I had never been inside a castle before, and the entrance, lit with torches and candles, was positively cavernous. A marble staircase led to another set of heavy wooden doors. I thought we would be going inside, but Professor McGonagall led us past the doors and into what seemed to be an unused classroom.

"Is this where they sort us?" I whispered to the sandy haired boy next to me. He shrugged in response.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said after we had all filed in. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." I remembered what Draco had said about the Houses. A very large part of me wanted to be in Slytherin just to prove to him that I could be.

"Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you." And with that, she swept from the room.

Nervous chatter immediately filled the room.

"How do they sort us?" I asked the boy next to me. He shrugged again, and I could see that the blood had drained from his face, too. Across the room, I saw Hermione no doubt mouthing bits of knowledge she had memorized, while others attempted to fix their robes and hair.

I looked down at my own robes and was trying to wipe off some of the dirt that had accumulated on it from the boat ride when I heard several shrieks from around the room. I started and looked about wildly. A stream of silvery, translucent people had just glided through the door of the classroom. I felt my jaw fall slack.

They were talking amongst each other and hardly seemed to notice us in the room when one with a large ruff started. "I say!" he cried. "What are you all doing here?"

No one answered him. It seemed that everyone, including myself, was rooted to the floor in shock. Hermione had mentioned ghosts, but didn't really believe her. Now, about twenty of them were staring me in the face.

"New students?" another one asked. He looked fat and jolly and he smiled at all of us. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

I and a few others managed to nod.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" he continued. "My old House, you know."

Draco had said all Hufflepuffs were idiots. Was that ghost an idiot, too? I didn't have much time to explore this thought, as Professor McGonagall returned to bring us into the Great Hall.

"Now form a line and follow me," she instructed. We did our best. I filed in behind a boy with ginger hair not unlike my own and followed him out of the classroom and through the great double doors leading to the Great Hall.

Immediately, my eyes were met with a truly dazzling sight.

The Great Hall had four long, narrow tables already lined with students, empty brass plates and goblets sitting in front of them. I craned my neck around the boy ahead of me to see the head table, where professors in brightly colored robes sat, staring at us filing in. At the head of the table sat a very old man with a long, white beard and half-moon spectacles.

"Who's that?" I whispered to the boy in front of me.

" _Who's that?_ That's Albus Dumbledore! The greatest wizard that's ever lived," he hissed back.

 _The greatest wizard who ever lived?_ What was he doing at Hogwarts, then? I wondered if the boy really knew what he was talking about; if _I_ was the greatest wizard in the world, I definitely wouldn't be teaching at a school.

My eyes drifted upwards and I saw hundreds of candles suspended in midair above us, lighting the entire hall with a warm glow. And then, above that, what looked like the night sky above us. I wondered what happened when it rained.

"It's not real, you know," I heard Hermione whisper behind me, hoping that she meant the lack of ceiling above us. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

We stopped at the front of the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall set a small wooden stool and an ancient hat. Not just any hat, though. It looked like every kind of witch's hat I had ever seen in fairy tale books, except ten times older.

Around me, others wobbled nervously. Did they know what we had to do with the hat? I glanced around at the older students and saw that they were staring intently at the hat. I decided to do the same.

And then, suddenly, the hat began to speak, a rip in its brim opening like a mouth.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat then me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry,_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

 _Where you'll meet your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means,_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For a Thinking Cap."_

The hall burst into applause, but I was too stunned to react. Even though the hat said not to be afraid, I was terrified. I didn't like the thought of having to be sorted in front of other people, much less the entire school.

I looked around at my group of fellow first years-there had to be at least forty of us. How long would the sorting take? My stomach rumbled. I hoped the sorting wouldn't take too long.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall called over us. And then, "Abbott, Hannah!"

I watched as blonde-haired Hannah put on the large hat and sat on the stool.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat roared after a second of deliberation.

Hannah jumped off the stool eagerly and joined her new housemates while everyone applauded politely and Hufflepuff cheered.

The next girl, Susan Bones, was also sorted into Hufflepuff, Terry Boot into Ravenclaw, Millicent Bullstrode to Slytherin, and Lavender Brown into Gryffindor. Each sorting seemed to take, at most, thirty seconds, and I began to wonder how exactly the hat sorted them into houses.

Of course, it had listed the qualities of each house in its song, but how exactly could the hat tell how each person was just by sitting on their head for a few seconds?

I reminded myself that I was at a school for magic and shook myself back to attention.

A boy with dark brown hair named Kevin Entwhistle was being sorted into Ravenclaw. A few minutes later, Hermione Granger became a Gryffindor. I watched as person after person I didn't know were sorted: Wayne Hopkins became a Hufflepuff, as did the black girl after him Megan Jones, and Su Li a Ravenclaw after her.

I recognized the blonde head of Draco Malfoy as he walked up to the stool. The hat barely touched his head when it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" Draco smirked as his new house cheered for him, and I felt a ripple of hot anger course through me. I did not like that boy.

Several more people were sorted. Neville almost took five full minutes before the hat put him in Gryffindor. And after Padma and Parvati Patil were sorted into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, respectively, I knew I was next.

"Perks, Sally-Anne," Professor McGonagall called out. There was a lurch in my stomach, and for a second I thought I may not be able to move at all, but somehow my feet carried me to the front of the room.

I tried to catch Professor McGonagall's eye as I sat on the stool, but she put the hat over my eyes, and all I could see was darkness.

"Well what do we have here?" a small voice said in my ear, and I jumped about a foot in the air before I realized it was the hat's voice.

 _Can you read my mind_? I thought.

The hat laughed. "Yes, but I can do much more than that. I see who you truly are," it said in the same small voice.

 _That's weird,_ I thought.

"There's a great deal of courage, oh yes," the hat said. "You would do well in Gryffindor, that is true. But then there's something else here…hmn, yes. Well, not much of a choice, then. HUFFLEPUFF!"

* * *

 **A/n: Thank you for reading! I would appreciate a review. Any review. At all...please...validate me... x**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Hufflepuff?_

I numbly slipped off the stool and walked towards the cheering Hufflepuff table, my mind racing. Draco Malfoy said that only idiots get into Hufflepuff. Was he right? Was I an idiot? And why did the Sorting Hat say 'not much of a choice?'

I sat down at the end of the table next to a boy with black hair and very pale skin who was also a first year.

"Hufflepuff, too! Congrats!" he said to me and clapped me on the shoulder.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called and the hall suddenly went very silent. And then, the whispers broke out.

"Did she say _Harry Potter_?" the boy next to me whispered to me excitedly, and it seemed like the entire hall was asking the same question.

"Erm, yeah, I think so," I answered, confused. "Who's Harry Potter? Why is everyone so excited?"

"Oh, you must be Muggle-born!" he said. "Here, I'll tell you about him during the feast!"

Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, and the house let out the loudest cheer yet, which went on for several minutes as the small black-haired boy made his way to his table. Other Gryffindors leant over to shake his hand or pat him on the back. I figured he must be some sort of celebrity.

The rest of the sorting went uneventfully. A boy with brown, curly hair named Oliver Rivers was sorted into Hufflepuff and came to sit across from me, but that was pretty much it. After Blaise Zabini was sorted, Professor McGonagall removed the stool and the hat, and Albus Dumbledore stood up at the head of the high table.

"Welcome!" he said in a voice that was not loud, but somehow carried over the entire hall. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

All of the students clapped and cheered. I was hopelessly confused, but clapped along with everyone else.

And then, before my eyes, food materialized onto the bronze plays in front of me. Every kind of food I could imagine lay before me: chicken, lamb, beef, pork, it seemed like every kind of vegetable sat piled high on plates and saucers. Suddenly realizing how hungry I was, I dug in.

"I'm Roger Malone, by the way," the dark-haired boy next to me said and extended his hand. I wiped my hand (which had been holding a chicken drumstick) on my napkin before giving my hand to him.

"Sally-Anne Perks," I replied. "What did Professor Dumbledore mean by those words? They didn't make any sense to me."

"Oh," Roger said and laughed a little, "Professor Dumbledore isn't exactly… Well some say he's not all there. He's brilliant!" he added, when he saw the look of horror on my face. "But he's a bit mad, really."

"Do you know who that boy Harry Potter is?" the boy across from us asked the rest of the table.

"You don't know who Harry Potter is?" the girl next to him asked, scandalized. " _Everyone_ knows who Harry Potter is!"

"I don't!" I piped up. "Is he some sort of celebrity?"

"He only saved the entire wizarding world from the most evil wizard of all time!" the girl explained excitedly. "He's the only one who's ever survived a killing curse! And he did it all when he was a _baby_."

"There's a killing spell?" the boy asked, suddenly looking pale.

"It's technically a curse," Roger told him. I didn't know what difference that was supposed to make. "I'm Roger Malone, by the way."

We all went around and introduced ourselves. The boy sitting across from me was Oliver Rivers, and the girl next to him was Lily Moon. Oliver had curly brown hair that flopped in his face, making him push it out of his eyes every few minutes. Lily, on the other hand, had long, beautifully straight black hair and pretty, almond-shaped eyes.

"I'm a Muggle-born," I explained as we ate, trying the new word for myself. "That's why I didn't know who Harry Potter was."

"Me, too!" Oliver said. "I don't know anything."

"Mmh, I'm half and half," Lily said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "My dad went to wizarding school. Now he works for the Ministry."

"Everyone in my family has gone to Hogwarts for generations," Roger told us matter-of-factly. "And both of my parents work in the ministry as heads of magical law enforcement and international relations."

I stared at him with my fork raised halfway to my mouth. "Magical law enforcement?" I repeated in awe. "That's so cool." Roger seemed to be much more refined than the rest of us—the way he talked and ate—even his school robes looked much neater than mine. It didn't surprise me that his family worked for the government.

We practically stuffed ourselves, sometimes pausing to talk about where we were from or what we did during the summer. Oliver was from Brighton, and Lily had gone to visit family in Korea over the holiday. Roger was from Ireland, which excited me quite a bit. When I told him that's where I was from, originally, he perked up and began telling me all about his small village.

When dinner melted away (quite literally) and dessert was only crumbs left on the platters, the chattering in the hall became warm ambient noise and I began to feel very sleepy.

Professor Dumbledore stood to make announcements, but I kept nodding off, unable to keep my eyelids open long enough to fully understand what he was saying. Roger had to nudge me a few times during the speech to keep me awake. I heard something about the forest on the grounds, the third-floor corridor, and a very painful death, but none of it really registered.

After Dumbledore dismissed us, an older boy stood up a few seats down from us. I figured he must be a prefect.

"Hufflepuff first years, follow me!" he called, raising his hand and waving us down. "First year Hufflepuffs, this way!" I followed my new friends out of the Great Hall behind the older boy with his arm still raised. We stopped in the entrance hall and gathered around him as a sea of other students passed us on their way to their houses.

"My name is Gabriel Truman and I'm a Hufflepuff prefect!" the older boy told us with a smile, calling over the heads of other students. "I know I talked to a few of you at the feast, but to the rest, welcome to the best house there is!" I glanced around at the rest of our group. They all looked as sleepy as I felt, but excited, as well.

"Now, I'll just tell you a little bit about Hufflepuff before I show you to our dorms," Gabriel continued. "Our house colors are yellow and black, if you haven't noticed." He laughed and gestured to his robes in the Hufflepuff house colors. "Our house symbol is the badger. People don't think of the badger as much of a fighter, but when provoked, they can be truly vicious and take on animals much larger than them. Us Hufflepuffs consider ourselves to be badgers because…well, you'll probably see a little bit of that tonight." He laughed again and his golden curls bounced around his face. I found myself smiling back at him.

"And, finally, you might have been told that Hufflepuff house is pretty lame." I remembered what Draco Malfoy had told me and suddenly found myself much more awake. Beside me, Roger straightened up a bit and Lily shifted her weight nervously. "And I'm here to tell you," Gabriel continued, "that that statement couldn't be further from the truth. We may be the most modest house, but we have the hardest working students in the school and we've produced as many great wizards and witches as Gryffindor. The only area we lack in is dark wizards. Out of all the houses, we've brought up the fewest." Gabriel beamed at all of us, and I felt extremely relieved at that. Maybe Hufflepuff wasn't so bad, after all.

"And now," Gabriel glanced around and, seeing that no one else was around, beckoned for us to follow him, "I'll show you to the Hufflepuff dorms."

We followed him down one flight of stairs, turned some corners, and down a few corridors, all the while never leaving the smell of the delectable feast.

"They say the kitchens are somewhere around here," Gabriel explained, turning around to give us all a knowing wink.

Finally, we reached the end of a corridor where only a stack of old wooden barrels stood in the corner.

"Alright, gather around here, and I'll show you how to get into the dorms." Gabriel stood next to the stack of barrels and we all crowded around him, a bit confused.

"Can you all see me? Can you all see the barrels? Okay, so the entrance to the common room is revealed when you tap _this_ barrel" he pointed to a barrel in the middle of the second row "in the same rhythm as the words _Helga Hufflepuff_." He rapped his knuckles on the wood: _1 2…1 2 3_ , and before my eyes the lid of the barrel opened and widened, revealing a large passage for us to walk through.

"That doesn't seem too secure," Lily pointed out skeptically as Gabriel ushered us through the entrance.

"Oh, don't worry," he told her, "An outsider has never seen the inside of Hufflepuff in over a thousand years!"

The round passage led to a circular wooden door, which, when opened, revealed complete and utter _chaos_. The noise alone made my jaw drop.

"Third years and above, come vote!" a girl yelled over the crowded room of loudly chatting Hufflepuffs. I looked to find the source of the yelling and saw a small girl standing on top of a table in the corner.

Paper seemed to be strewn all over the floor. A pair of boys pushed past me, one only stopping to say sorry before saying "Dude, we could totally go smoke on the Astronomy Tower" loudly to his friend.

"Come vote over here!" someone else yelled. And a group of girls to my right started chanting " _vote, vote, vote, vote_."

What the hell was going on? It was like a party throughout the room. Music was playing from somewhere, and the unmistakable smell of alcohol filled the air.

I pushed my way further into the crowd, not entirely sure what I was looking for, and accidentally cutting myself off from the other first years. Older students lounged on comfortable-looking couches, some holding bottles of what I assumed to be alcohol, others snogging intently, and, in one case, playing a very loud game of chess.

"Um, excuse me." I tapped on an older boy's shoulder. He turned around to face me, and I wondered if I had made the right decision—he had his yellow and black tie tied around his head like a bandana and he held a beer in his hand.

"What's going on?" I asked him loudly, trying to talk over the cacophony.

"Oh, first year?" he asked with a slightly sloppy smile. "Welcome to Hufflepuff!" He swung his arms out wide and accidentally slopped beer on a couple on the couch. They didn't seem to notice, though; they were much too occupied with each other…

"What's going on?" I asked again. I wondered if I shouldn't just give up and find someone more sober.

"Funny you should ask—I'm the president of it!" he continued proudly, albeit with slightly glassy eyes. "We're voting in the new members of the Hufflepuff Mafia!"

"The _what_?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's not so much a mafia as it is a secret society, but we like to have fun with it," he laughed, taking a long drink of his beer. "So third years and up vote in two new fourth-years every year to be in the Mafia. It's kind of a big deal." I nodded slowly, as if I understood any of what he had just said.

"What does the Mafia do?" I asked him.

"Mainly make trouble if trouble is needed," he explained happily. "If someone takes a jab at Hufflepuff, tries to jinx our Quidditch team, anything like that, we make hell for them. We protect our own, us Hufflepuffs."

"Don't you get caught?"

"Caught?" He laughed loudly. "No, see, the thing is, no one expects us _passive, subdued Hufflepuffs_. We can usually pass it off on Slytherin or Gryffindor if it becomes an issue. We just get off free."

I had to admit, it was a brilliant plan, though no one in the common room looked particularly dangerous or mischievous. I turned around to try to find Roger or Lily or Oliver, but I couldn't see through the crowd of people.

I was about to ask the boy I was talking to where my dormitories were, but when I turned around, he was standing on a table.

"OI!" he shouted and the room quieted down. "Hey mates, you all hafta clean this place up before tomorrow or Professor Sprout'll have my head!"

Some people laughed. Others called out "Aww, little Calum's all grown up!" and "Head Boy Calum, Head Boy Calum!" The same group of girls from earlier started chanting "speech, speech, speech, speech!"

The boy I was speaking to, Calum apparently, laughed and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously.

"Alright, alright," he conceded. The room cheered. "I'm Calum Watson, if you don't know me. And if you don't know me, I either say to you 'Welcome to Hogwarts,' or 'bugger off!'" The room cheered again and Calum Watson drained his drink.

"I'm the president of the Mafia," (more whoops and cheers from the crowd) "and I'm also your bloody Head Boy. So, like I said, clean up tonight!" Everyone laughed and clapped as Calum took a very dramatic bow and was handed another beer.

"Oh, and Lloyd and Cox!" he shouted into the crowd. "You know you can't smoke that in here. Go to the Astronomy Tower for chrissakes." He stumbled off the table and into a crowd of friends and admirers.

I decided that I would try to find my dorms by myself. I pushed my way through the crowd to the edge of the room and shuffled along the wall until I came across another round corridor. I followed the sign to the right towards the girls' dorms and entered the room labeled "First Year Girls."

"There you are, Sally-Anne, we were worried about you!" Lily greeted me as soon as I had opened the door. "We got separated and we couldn't find you. Your stuff is over there, by the way." She pointed to a four-poster bed across the cozy, circular room.

I hastily introduced myself to the rest of the first-year girls: Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Megan Jones. They were already in their pyjamas and sitting on the edge of their beds, talking with each other.

"Where are you from, Sally-Anne?" Susan Bones asked me as I changed out of my robes, which now smelled faintly of beer.

"Erm, well originally from Ennis, Ireland, but my mum and I moved to Cardiff when I was eight and we just moved to Guildford," I tried to explain. "We moved around a lot," I added.

"Ooh, I'm from Limerick," Megan told me excitedly.

"I'm from Hogsmeade, the village right outside Hogwarts; I didn't even have to take the train!" Susan said as I got into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. Although it was the beginning of September, the night was cool, and I was grateful for the thick quilt on my new four-poster.

"I wonder what they'll be having us do tomorrow," Megan said with a yawn as she blew out the candle next to her bed. The others did the same and I settled in for some much-needed sleep.

Next to our room, the soft sounds of the ongoing party lulled me to sleep.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! x**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"What class do we have first?" Lily asked as I was handed a class schedule by a very hungover looking Calum.

"Transfiguration with Gryffindor," I answered, handing her my schedule and taking a bite of toast.

The new Hufflepuff girls had managed to find our way to the Great Hall the next morning through a group effort. We traced our way back to the Great Hall, trying to remember which corridors to turn down, before we found a group of Hufflepuff third-years and followed them to breakfast.

The boys, apparently, didn't have such luck.

The Fat Friar glided in, looking more translucent than usual in the morning light, with the new Hufflepuff boys trailing behind him, looking a little self-conscious.

"There you are, young sirs," the friar said as the boys sat down next to us. "I'm glad I could be of some service!"

"Thank you, Friar," Roger said as he sat down next to me. "What have we got today, Sally-Anne?" he asked as he piled his plate high with toast and sausages.

"Transfiguration with Gryffindor, Potions with Ravenclaw, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Slytherin," I read off to him.

"Fantastic," he replied, and was just about to take a bite of his toast when the bell rang for the beginning of classes and his food melted off the table.

I would be lying if I said that the first week of classes went smoothly, but in all honesty, they could have been worse.

The thing about Hogwarts is that it's enormous. I thought there must have been a million staircases (though I was later corrected; only 142), and if that wasn't enough, the staircases _move_. The staircase on the second floor had a habit of disappearing the second Tuesday of every month. Or, even more terrifying, sometimes the staircases move while you're on them, leading you to the fourth floor instead of the fifth.

And while all of this was very confusing, it was nothing when compared with the actual classes themselves. Our first class, Transfiguration, was taught by Professor McGonagall, who taught us the theory, wand movement, and incantation for a spell to turn a matchstick into a pin.

I had no idea so much went into making magic, but I was pleased to see that I was not the only one struggling to change my matchstick. In fact, the only person to make a marked difference in her match (to no surprise to me) was Hermione Granger.

We had Potions class twice a week down in the dungeons with a nasty Professor Snape. I heard all the Gryffindors complain about him and that he would always favor the Slytherins, but in our class with Ravenclaw, no one was favored-but then again, no one was disdained, either. I was paired with Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw who I liked very much, and together we made a passable cure for boils.

Unfortunately, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and History of Magic were all with Slytherin. Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't too bad—Draco Malfoy and his cronies had a knack for getting our stuttering Professor Quirrell to go on long, off-topic rants on certain aspects of the Dark Arts (though I suspected the Slytherins were more interested in the Dark Arts than the Defense Against it).

Herbology ended up being much more of a treat, though, because the head of Hufflepuff house taught it. And though I could tell she tried not to favor us, Professor Sprout gave us Hufflepuffs much more encouragement than the Slytherins. She awarded us more points, too.

History of Magic was easily everyone's least favorite subject. It was taught by a ghost, which I found quite exciting at first, but the excitement soon bled away to boredom as Professor Binns droned on and on in his mono-tone voice about the Troll Treaties of 1611. Roger, Lily, and I joined forces with two Slytherin girls, Daphne Greengrass and Eileen Runcorn, to take turns writing notes in each class while the others slept.

On Wednesdays at midnight we had Astronomy with Gryffindor. The first week of classes, it seemed very cool to be up so late in the name of school, but after realizing that we had Charms the next morning, it became much more annoying.

My favorite class by far though, was Charms, which was taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny little man who had to stand on several thick books in order to see over the top of his desk.

The first day of class, we got right into casting charms. After roll call, Professor Flitwick demonstrated the first essential wand movements we would be learning during the year.

"Just a small circle," he squeaked, walking through rows Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to check our progress. "Not too much wrist movement there, Mr. Cornfoot! Yes, there you go, much tighter circles—like Miss Li next to you.

"Now, if you're feeling particularly ready," he continued to the class, "you can go ahead and try a simple spell, _Glacius_ , which will produce ice. Try repeating after me, without wand movement if you please: _Glacius_."

" _Glacius_ ," the class repeated.

"Good! Now try saying it with your wand movement. I don't expect any of you to get it right today, of course…"

I practiced my small wand movements a few times before I said in a clear voice, " _Glacius._ "

Immediately, frost shot out of the tip of my wand and coated the top of my desk in a rather thick layer of ice.

"I-I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to, it just-it just happened!" I stammered when Professor Flitwick ran over to my desk. I was sure I had done something wrong—I had frozen my desk! I couldn't believe I had messed up so badly during my first week, and I prepared for a detention.

Mum would kill me.

"No, no, my girl you've done it!" he cried, his small eyes lighting up in delight. "Well done, well done, Miss…?"

"Perks," I answered weakly, stunned that he wasn't yelling at me or handing me detention.

"Well done, Miss Perks! That will be five points to Hufflepuff!" Oliver, who was sitting next to me, punched me in the arm playfully and mouthed "good job" as Professor Flitwick called the rest of the class around my desk.

"See what Miss Perks has done?" he said, pointing at the ice covering my desk. "Notice how the ice did not form in a cube, rather it has covered the object focused upon? This serves many uses. In fact—"

Professor Flitwick raised his wand, cried " _Accio Teapot_!" and a second later, a small, floral teapot zoomed across the room and into his hand. With another few waves of his wand, the teapot was whistling and ice skating across the top of my desk.

After class was over, I had several people come up to me to congratulate me, including Ernie MacMillan, who had told us all at breakfast that Charms was sure to be his subject, as it was his dad's. Even Anthony Goldstein, my potions partner, approached me and offered his congratulations.

"You should consider joining Charms club with me, Stephen, and Morag," he told me, gesturing to his friends behind him. "The first meeting is on Friday after dinner in the library if you want to come!"

"And you thought you'd be behind!" Lily laughed as we sat at dinner on Friday of the first week. "You're the only one in our year who's done real, proper magic so far!"

"Except for Hermione Granger," I corrected her. I still felt self-conscious about my bout of magic while in Charms.

"Oh, she seems like a prick anyway," Lily scoffed. I had been spending most of my time with my new friends. Lily, I had begun to realize, said _exactly_ what was on her mind at all times, no exception.

"Well I wish you could make all our homework disappear, Sally-Anne," Oliver said gloomily.

He was right, we had not been s pared any amount of homework from our first week. In addition to practicing spells for Transfiguration and Charms and essays on the applications of both, we also had a long essay about the properties of horned slugs, and what would happen if one stewed them clockwise instead of counter-clockwise in the boil cure potion. Not to mention our Defense Against the Dark Arts reading.

"We should probably start on the Transfiguration essay after dinner," Roger said and the others agreed. "You'll work with us on Charms, right Sally-Anne?"

"Oh! I'm actually going to Charms club after dinner," I told them, feeling self-conscious again. "Anthony Goldstein invited me, and I thought I would see what it's all about." I didn't want them to think I was being stuck-up for liking Charms. Or that I was ditching them for another study group.

Roger just shrugged and turned the conversation back to the Transfiguration homework. I hoped that was a good sign. I didn't want to lose my new friends the first week…

After dinner, I separated from my friends and was faced with the task of finding the library. I stood just outside the Great Hall, unsure where to start, and hoping that a friendly ghost would drift by to help. I was just about to take the stairs and go up a floor when I heard a voice behind me.

"Sally-Anne!" I turned around and saw Anthony Goldstein and his Ravenclaw friends coming towards me.

"On your way to the Charms club meeting?" he asked me. I nodded. "So are we! This is Morag and Stephen, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," I said to them both. Morag was much taller than me and had long, curly brown hair, while Stephen was almost a foot shorter than her and had very white-blonde hair.

"So do you want to walk up with us, or do you need to stop by your dorms first?" Anthony asked me.

"Oh, I've never been to the library before," I told them, "so I'll definitely be going up with you."

"I've been to the library a few times this week," Anthony told me excitedly as he led us up the stairs. "They have the _coolest_ books—about flying, history, wandmaking…"

"There was that one about the dragons," Stephen reminded him helpfully. "That was really cool."

We turned down a corridor onto the first floor, which immediately opened up to expose the library. I'm not entirely sure what I expected, but at first glance, the library seemed like the only normal place in Hogwarts. The air was thick with the familiar musty spell of rotting pages and fresh ink, and the only sound was that of quietly turning pages while students worked. Anthony, Stephen, Morag, and I worked our way towards the back of the library.

"That's Madam Pince," Stephen whispered to me, pointing out the hawk-like librarian lurking through the aisles of books. "Morag's already gotten on her bad side…"

"It was one page!" she defended, though looking a little sheepish. " _Tools for Transfiguration_ would never miss it."

At the very back of the library was a long table studded with students with a parchment sign reading "Charms Club" hung on the edge of it. Just beyond that was a roped off section of books.

"What's the restricted section?" I asked Anthony as we sat down, reading the sign hung on the rope barring it.

"I'm not quite sure," he replied, "but Stephen and I have talked about sneaking into it some night."

Tearing pages out of books? Sneaking into the library after hours? These Ravenclaws were much different than how I thought they would be.

"Ahem." An older Slytherin girl at the head of the table stood up and cleared her throat.

"Welcome to Charms Club," she whispered, causing half the table to lean in closer to her in order to hear. "My name is Agatha Lane and I'm a seventh year and I'm president of the Charms Club. Usually, we will meet in Professor Flitwick's classroom, but since he can't meet with us this week, Madam Pince has _graciously_ —" she rolled her eyes at this "—offered the library to us under the condition that we don't use magic and we only speak in whispers.

"So for our first meeting, let's just go around and introduce ourselves—say your name and your year—and I'll pass around a sign-in sheet."

We went around the table. There was Aditya Narang and Starla Tugwood, both fifth year Ravenclaws, Gryffindor second year Nerys Orpington, a Gryffindor fourth year named Quinten Powell, a beautiful blonde Lucien Sykes from Slytherin, Barclay Bloxam a Hufflepuff seventh year (who was so excited he forgot to whisper and earned a harsh reprimand from Madam Pince), and the Al-Jabira twins, Aminah and Kareem, who were third years in Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively.

"I'm Sally-Anne," I whispered as loudly as I dared, so as to not end up like Barclay. "And I'm a first year."

"Are you that first year who managed to perform the Glacius Charm on the first try?" Lucien asked me excitedly.

"Oh, um, yes I suppose I am," I answered him, feeling myself flush at the attention.

"Professor Flitwick talked about you in our class," Aminah told me, starting to raise her voice.

"You must have really impressed him; he never does that," Quinten added, speaking loudly, too.

"It was nothing," I said, hoping for a change in subject. The attention was making me uncomfortable, especially since it was only a simple spell…

"I saw her do it!" Anthony added excitedly. "It was really cool! She totally froze her desk over and everything—"

" _Raising your voice in my library again?_ " Madame Pince cried, pouncing down on us suddenly. " _Get out! Leave my library, all of you, leave now!_ "

She marched us briskly out of the library. I grumbled with everyone else, but secretly I was relieved to be out of the spotlight.

"See you all on Tuesday in Professor Flitwick's classroom!" Agatha called to us as we split up and I made my way back to the Hufflepuff dorms.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! x**


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